


Metal Now

by rabidfansquirrel



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidfansquirrel/pseuds/rabidfansquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-sided Amorra. Amon being angsty, emo, hot and bothered. I get angry when you're around, when you're around. I get nasty when you're around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metal Now

**Author's Note:**

> One-sided Amorra. Amon being angsty, emo, hot and bothered. (from http://ficbending.livejournal.com/578.html?thread=6722#t6722; a little bit of inspiration from the lyrics to “Metal Now” by Say Anything)
> 
> Also available on my ff.net profile and my tumblr (both of which are the same username)

“I’ve finally got you where I want you,” the Avatar said, pinning Amon against the wall. Despite her youth and smaller size, she had gotten the better of him in this showdown. Amon struggled against her grip--was she using earthbending to keep him in place?--but to no avail. She had him trapped pretty securely.

He couldn’t say that he was opposed to it. But why, oh why did the one person with the fame and power to get in his way have to be so goddamn attractive?

“Let go of me, Avatar,” he tried to growl, unable to keep his voice steady.

She smirked. “Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, trailing a hand down his chest. “I think you’re pretty comfortable where you are, don’t you?”

He hissed, glad that the mask prevented her from seeing how red his face was becoming. “Does this have a point?” he asked, giving up on the menacing growl and just going for “please don’t let my voice waver to show the Avatar how turned on I am right now.”

“Maybe,” she said, putting her hands on his waist and leaning in. She wasn’t even really pinning him up against the wall anymore; Amon was frozen in the position, unable to push her away. “Maybe not. Maybe I’m just messing with you.”

“I really hate you, Avatar,” he said.

She smiled. “I know,” she said. Then she tightened her grip on his waist and leaned in to whisper, “but you can’t deny how much you want me anyway.”

Amon let out a sigh, determined to let that be the only sign that her words had had any effect on him. Of course, he would have preferred to not even let that sigh out, but that was the best that he could do. She had caught him out, she had robbed him of his game face, and he refused to give her the satisfaction of cowering beneath her words.

“I think you must be mistaken, Avatar,” he said. “You must be projecting your own silly fantasies on me. It’s okay, I understand. I’m older, wiser, and more powerful than you. Of course you would be attracted to me.”

Korra snorted. “As if. Besides, if you don’t want this, then why haven’t you fought me off yet?”

It was at this point that Amon realized that she wasn’t actually pinning him down anymore and that he was just standing there of his own accord. Crap. She had a point.

“Take off the mask, Amon,” she said, sliding her hands up under the bottom of his tunic to rest on his stomach. She wouldn’t be able to miss the bulge that was forming in his pants now, even if she had managed to miss it before.

“Never,” he hissed before grabbing the Avatar and--

Amon sat up with a gasp, drenched in sweat...and hard as a rock. He cursed. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t have her. 

Avatar Korra. Although he’d accounted for the Avatar’s appearance when he first made plans to unveil his power to remove bending, he’d never actually thought she would be in Republic City for it. And even when she did arrive, he wasn’t expecting her to be so...

Beautiful. Sexy. Young. Powerful.

His dreams were the only place he’d allowed himself to admit it, refusing to think about how attracted he was to the person who ended up being his nemesis. The attraction made him angry when he was around her--angrier than he normally was, anyway. That was why he hadn’t been able to take her bending away when they’d met that night at Avatar Aang’s memorial--although lucky for him, he’d managed to save face by explaining that she would be made a martyr if he took her bending away then.

I get nasty when she’s around, he thought, sighing and flopping back on the bed. If only he could find a way to resolve some of this tension he felt! But he refused to let his mind dwell on it during waking hours, only allowing the thoughts to creep into his dreams where he had no control over them anyway. Even if he did want to act on them, that would be giving the Avatar too much power over him.

No. He gripped the sheets next to him tightly, as if that would relieve some of the stress. He was not going to let this get the better of him.

But he wanted it. He wanted the danger. He wanted the danger of a relationship with his enemy.

Amon groaned. If he was going to do something about this, he decided, and this wasn’t admitting that he was actually going to act on these desires, this was just one of those two-thirty-in-the-morning thoughts, he was going to start tomorrow by sending a letter.

Meet me at Avatar Aang’s memorial statue alone tomorrow night at midnight. And be alone. I won’t make an appearance if you bring anyone with you.

He wouldn’t have to sign it. She’d know who it was from.


End file.
